I Won't Shoot You
by Neo Nobody
Summary: The bullet ripped through the night and I froze. It took me a while to realize John was bleeding. Rated for violence, language, and slash. *evil grin* Carter POV. NO LONGER A ONESHOT! It's going to be anywhere from 3chaps to 12. POST 1x10
1. Carter

**DISCLAIMER: The Princess does not own Person of Interest or the characters. If she did, Reese and Finch would've become a couple by now.**

Princess: FYI, I am not implying that Finch and Reese have a relationship of _any_ kind, just Finch was… *grins* excited.

Pie: I don't mind if you think a few characters were OOC, I'm just writing what I want to happen and then letting you read it. *pouts* But I still love you.

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The bullet ripped through the night and I froze.

It took me almost _four seconds_ to realize the Guy In A Suit, or… 'John', was bleeding. He had let off three or four bullets himself before I awoke.

Another shot, and it landed in Guy In A- John's thigh. He almost immediately jumped up painfully, and started running to a stairway.

I ran to it as well.

I started running as fast as I could down the stairs, gun drawn and in front of me.

I followed the trail of blood and sweat down the steps.

I also followed a faint voice echoing through the stairway.

"_Harold," _it said, the final breaths obvious. _"No. You stay away. I'm not worth the risk."_ His stern voice filled with agony.

I heard the two clicks and bangs of the ground level door being pushed open. I also heard the screech of tires come and disappear with the opening and closing of the door.

I soon came to it and shoved it open.

"John," a man with short dark hair and glasses whispered, cupping John's face in one hand.

The other hand was holding him up.

"HOLD IT!" I yelled to them. The man looked up. I gasped. "You?"

"Harold," came a pained groan from John. "I told you not to come…" I thought I heard him say.

"And just look at all the fucks I give," the man's eyes were still fixed on me. They were nervous.

I can't do this…

I lowered my weapon and rushed over to the men. I grabbed John's other shoulder, holding him up straighter.

"Get him outta here. Come on." We both helped John into the backseat of the car.

All three of us were painfully aware of the screaming of tires from the SUV getting closer.

When John was lowered into the car, I stepped back, pulling my gun back out.

The man John called Harold spun around and planted himself in my view of John.

Blocking John from any bullets.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to shoot you." I comforted, forcing a smile across my face. "I'm covering my ass."

John chuckled through the pain, but Harold's face stayed stony.

"Get him the hell out of here." I ordered, jabbing my finger at them before lifting my gun higher, but to the side.

No time for mistakes here.

Harold finally calmed to my presence and spun back around to John.

"John," he whispered again, pure adoration in his voice.

He grabbed John's collar and shoved himself closer, half of him in the car, the other half out.

I saw Harold's lips crash down onto John's, and I turned away.

Harold pulled back, softly touching his hand to John's face before he rushed, or rather, _limped_ _quickly_ to the driver's side, leaping into the chair and speeding out of the parking garage.

I turned my gun to their disappearing shape and the SUV screamed up next to me.

I made a show of holstering my gun and walking away from them.

"What the HELL WAS THAT?" Mark screamed from behind me.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about." I smirked.

Mark fumed behind me, but I was already halfway down the block before I heard the arguing of Mark and his associate.

I hope John survives; what little I saw, I saw Harold's sincerity on the kiss.

At least John has someone. He seemed like a lonely guy.

I laughed aloud, waving my hands through the air like I was at a concert doing the Windshield Wipers. I have never before felt this free.


	2. Harold

Princess: Super special awesome thanks to Jocelynn: without ur encouragement, I probably wouldn't have written this ;D

Pie: And to Gwen In Wonderland: I KNOW RIGHT? I actually thought of this while watching the episode for the first time on CBS . com. All the looks that Finch gave Reese… Reese gave Carter… Reese gave Finch… Because of that episode Rinch is my new fav live-action slash, besides Bennoda!

Shadow the Cat: John Reese's POV is next… hopefully it's good… *winces*

Pie: And for the idiots: John = Mr. Reese and Harold = Finch

Shadow the Cat: On behalf of the Princess and Pie, we apologize if this chapter is awful, but… we wanted to write it like this. If you don't like it you can get out. Like, now. No, seriously, leave.

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"Harold," John whispered, stumbling closer to me as I scurried over to him. I saw the blood dripping from his stomach and his blood-covered hand. No! John, you can't die! You cannot leave me here!

He tripped suddenly and all of his dead weight landed on me.

But there was no way I was going to let him fall on the floor.

So I caught him and held him up.

I then noticed the pained expression on his face, and that he was soaked through and through in sweat.

I held onto him tighter with one hand, the other moving to grasp his face, trying to wipe off the sweat.

I heard the door slam and Detective Carter stormed into the parking garage, gun drawn.

"HOLD IT!" she yelled. I didn't care. I just held John close to me and glared at her. I hope I looked as menacing as I thought I did. Detective Carter kind of stumbled over her words a bit, and John tried to turn to look at her, but his breath was now coming in gulps. I kept his face in my hand and pulled it closer to me, hiding him in the crook of my neck. "You?" I began playing with his hair, sliding my fingers through it, trying to calm him.

"Harold," John gasped into my neck, one of his hands pulling at my shirt. "I told you not to come…"

"And just look at all the fucks I give," I snapped back, not tearing my eyes from Detective Carter.

Detective Carter seemed to be fighting with herself, and after a second or two, she holstered her gun and rushed over to us, grabbed John's other side.

"Get him outta here, come on." We both worked to get the half-unconscious man into the back seat of the car.

The tires of some car going triple the speed limit in here screeched down the levels, getting closer to us with every passing second.

We moved quickly, trying to get John lowered in, but his painful groans and moans stopped me in my tracks every time.

I hated seeing and hearing my John in pain.

His choked breathing was becoming farther apart. I swallowed my fear and quickly lowered him, one last choked yelp escaping his beautiful lips.

I winced.

Detective Carter stepped back and drew her gun, to which I immediately responded.

I stepped in front of John.

Oh, no you don't.

"Don't worry; I'm not going to shoot you." She comforted, forcing a smile. "I'm covering my ass."

I heard John chuckled from behind me, a throaty chuckle, a pained chuckle.

Detective Carter's expression changed, and she jabbed a finger at me. "Get him the _hell_ out of here!" she lifted her gun and pointed it obviously away from me.

I felt a soft hand my lower back, patting me. Calming me.

I sighed and turned to John. His half-open eyes were pleading for mercy, his face covered in sweat.

I reached out and grabbed his collar. I shoved myself closer to him and kissed him, massaging his face with my hands. John kissed back fervently, his hand ghosting across my face.

I pulled back a bit, opening my eyes to look at him. His gray eyes flashing, his mouth slightly open. He attacked like a snake, kissing me one, two, three more times quickly before pushing me away.

John's hand followed after me as I rushed out to the driver's side and leaped into the seat. I smashed down on the gas pedal and sped out of the parking garage.

I silently remembered that I put our fake ID's in the glove box. The hospital loomed over us in a matter of minutes.

I started to get out to get nurses to come help, but then I felt a frail hand on my arm.

"Harold…" John's soft voice asked, "Don't leave me… please." His hand went limp and I knew what I had to do.

I jumped out of the car and ran as fast as I could, which still wasn't fast enough, over to John's door.

I ripped it open and hugged John tightly, trying to ignore the fact that his heartbeat, beating against my shirt, was faint and ragged.

I lifted John out of the car and began dragging him into the giant building. The second the doors opened, three nurses surrounded me and took John's weight away from me, their voices overlapping.

Somehow John ended up on a gurney, and I trailed behind it, my hand outreached to my unconscious love.

A nurse approached me. I saw her in my peripheral vision, but didn't care to actually look at her.

"Do you know his name?" she asked me, a clipboard in one hand, a pen in the other. She clicked the pen annoying in and out. _Cli-cli-cli-click, cli-cli-cli-cli-click._

"Yes."

"Can you tell me it?"

"Yes." She waited a beat, then started to glare at me.

"_Will_ you tell me it?"

"Sure. 'James Baker'," she furiously scribbled the name down on a piece of paper and started jogging to the place they rolled away Mr. Reese.

I stood in that same place for what seemed like days, but it must've only been a few minutes. Another nurse came up to me and began leading me to a chair.

"We'll come tell you if anything happens to Mr. Baker," she promised.

I just stared, wide-eyed, at the floor.

It seemed like a thousand years before someone, hands covered in blood, actually walked up to me. He pointed to me.

"Are you the 'Harold' that Mr. James Baker is asking for?" my head snapped up.

"Yes." I fumbled around in my mind for a bit. "Harold Reese."

"Come with me," he led me through double doors, and though another pair of doors, and there sat my John. My love.

He looked peaceful in his sleep.

Probably jacked up on morphine.

"He's in and out of consciousness, but whenever he wakes up he asks for you."

I slowly made my way over to John, laying my hand over his.

He immediately responded, his hand twitching, then opening up for me to clutch. His eyes flashed open.

"Harold. Where is Harold." He asked firmly, anger coating every word.

A tear welled up behind my eye.

"Right here," he turned his head to me. He smiled when he saw me.

"Harold," his eyes softened, his hand slowly making its way to my face and cupping it.

He still looked like hell. Most of the sweat and blood was gone, but it didn't take away his pain that I knew was there.

"I- I-" I kept choking on my words and the lump in my throat kept getting bigger. "I never left you," I finally told him, the single tear escaping.

He chuckled.

"I know you didn't, Harold. I know you didn't."


End file.
